


Better Days

by Arctic_comet



Category: Bridget Jones's Baby, Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, POV Mark, Spoilers for Bridget Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: Spoilers for Bridget Jones's Baby. Mark tries to do the right thing, but ultimately fails. However, it might be that wrong is exactly right this time.





	1. Chapter 1

_“We don't actually fear death. We fear that - no one will notice our absense. That we will disappear without a trace.”_

_\- Bones, “The Doctor in the Photo” (6x09)_

 

At first he didn’t answer her calls or messages because he was smart enough to know that nothing good would come out of talking to her in this agitated state. He needed time to calm down and to clear his thoughts. Disappearing from her life without an explanation was hardly polite, and it bothered him, but he couldn’t avoid the thought that perhaps it was for the best. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t abandoning Bridget to her own devices. Unless he came clean with her completely, what was there left to say? In addition, although it did make him seem like a coward, he simply didn’t want to say goodbye to her, not again.

They were a terrible match, that much was obvious. He wasn’t sure if he even believed in that stupid algorithm (although there were quite a few testimonials online stating they’d found their perfect partners thanks to the service), but he certainly had enough evidence of his failures to reach that conclusion even without any outside help. Bridget deserved someone who could properly express his feelings, who put her first at all times, and who hadn’t failed her at least a million times. He’d had his chance and he’d failed. Perhaps it was time to accept the consequences of his own actions, and leave her alone, allow her a chance to be happy. Jack was rich and generous, made her laugh and hadn’t proven to be an absolutely shitty partner. He was also most likely the father of her son. The more he thought about things, the more certain he felt that removing himself from the equation was the right thing to do.

 

If he chose to tell her about his feelings, for whose benefit would that even be? He knew the answer without much contemplation. His, it would be for his benefit only. She hadn’t wanted to get back together with him before she’d found out about the pregnancy, and it was unlikely she felt different now. Bridget had a new chance at happiness, and it didn’t involve him. While on the other hand, he’d tried to move on and get over her for more than five years, and it hadn’t worked in the least. Facing that evidence, it seemed reasonably likely that it never would. Involving yet another woman in his miserable existence wasn’t the right thing to do either. He would never subject another innocent woman to a life with him and the ghost of his and Bridget’s relationship. They were his demons and regrets to live with, and only his.

 

Camilla would come by in a few weeks to get the rest of her belongings, and after that she would be gone for good. He knew he should feel more strongly about that, but the most prominent feeling he had was relief. He could keep on drowning himself in work again, although he had to admit that recently he hadn’t been feeling as enthusiastic about his work as he usually had. Most likely it was merely that the case wasn’t his favorite, but a growing dread was beginning to take flight in his head that perhaps this feeling was permanent. Perhaps some part of him had finally relented that despite the noble nature of his work, it would never be enough. It could be a sign of getting old, and realising that you had very few meaningful things in your life. His work was his only legacy, the only proof that he’d ever even been here, once he kicked the bucket perhaps 25 years from now.

 

Sorting through the papers in his briefcase, his hand found the small, soft item he’d bought in Paris. It was a small teddy bear, especially fit to offer comfort to a newborn, if the saleswoman was to be believed. Sighing, he opened a drawer in his desk and placed it inside, next to the books on pregnancy and parenting he’d been recently reading, and an ultrasound image. Jack must have bought at least a dozen live-sized bears for the boy, surely he had no need for this one. Perhaps it was better that he wasn’t the father, as he wasn’t sure he would’ve been a very good one anyway. He wouldn’t wish his own inability to express his feelings on anyone, especially his own child. And if he’d learned anything from the books, it was that children needed their parents to be open to them, to express their feelings and show affection. He had no natural rapport with children, and most of the time he had absolutely no clue what to do with them, or what he should talk to them about. Nevertheless, he would have tried with Bridget’s son, whether he was his biologically or not. He would’ve tried, and most likely failed spectacularly.

 

***

That stupid reindeer jumper was the last thing he’d been looking for, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to just bury it back into the depths of the drawer. All those years ago, Bridget had gone from hating him to loving him within a year. Could there be a chance that she might’ve changed her mind about never getting back with him too? Or that he might be able to convince her? What if there was still a way he could fix things between them? Every single happy moment they'd spent together, every moment she'd stolen his breath away, made him feel loved, suddenly hit him at full force. That was the man he wanted to be, but only a better version this time around. Better for her.

 

Despite their problems, he had been happy. _She_ had made him happy, and she had been happy as well, when he hadn't been a complete emotionally repressed workaholic. Nevertheless, he wanted to try once more, for the sake of all those good days they'd spent together.

No matter how selfish it was or how inconvenient the timing might be, he had to try. At least when he was older and miserable and lonely, he’d know he’d done everything. As he ordered a taxi, he vowed to himself that he would promise her to do everything possible not to fail this time, and then actually be a man of his word. Bridget and her son deserved nothing but the best, and he was going to give them that, if she gave him one more chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, people, thanks for the kudos on the 1st chapter! I have more BJB oneshots coming up, but there's a longer fic I need to finish first :)

_“When you love someone, you open yourself up to suffering. That's the sad truth. Maybe they'll break your heart, maybe you'll break their heart and never be able to look at yourself in the same way. Those are the risks. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden. Like wings, they have weight, we feel that weight on our backs, but they are a burden that lifts us. Burdens which allow us to fly.”_

Bones, “The End in the Beginning” (4x25)

 

After receiving the test results, Bridget had decided to talk to Jack first. She'd finally known what to say to him and he deserved honesty. The discussion had ended up being less awkward than she'd anticipated, and a weight had fallen off her shoulders when she'd been finally able to put her feelings into words. Soon, Jack was gone and the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with stuck his head into the room."May I come in?" He asked, still seeming a bit uncertain despite the sheepish smile on his face.

"Of course, come and hold your son," she replied, holding out the baby for Mark to take. He leaned down and carefully transferred the child into the crook of his arm.

 

As he sat down in the chair next to her bed with their son in his arms, her eyes began to sting. Sure, it was the stupid pregnancy hormones, but it was also the sight of her two favourite men in the universe together. All she had wanted years ago was before her eyes now: Mark looking down at their child with awe. Somehow despite everything, it was still what she wanted. This man was her other half, her home, and she never wanted to live without him again. As ridiculous as it might sound, she was convinced they belonged together, flaws and all.

"Hello, son," murmured Mark, offering his finger for the baby to grasp.

This was nothing short of perfection.She must have let out an audible sniffle, as Mark's head flipped from their son to her.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No, everything is just right," she answered, receiving a warm grin from Mark that was somehow uncharacteristic to him but still warmed her soul to the core.

And it was the truth. No matter how well Jack had treated her, the idea of the two of them raising her baby had never felt quite right. She had never been able to wish for the baby to be Jack's.

After the day and night she’d just had it felt surreal watching Mark and their son together. She was now unemployed and one day something would have to be done about that, but right now this was all that mattered. Mark had come back to her and said all the right words, and their son was finally _there_. They were parents, a family. None of it felt real yet.

"He needs a name," said Mark suddenly, bringing Bridget out of her blissful daydream.

"He does. Did you have any suggestions?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"Well, I do happen to have one," she replied, giving him a secretive smile.

She was reasonably certain that Mark would like her suggestion. With that, she reached to the bedside table again and grabbed a pen and notepad. Without much of a doubt, she scribbled down the name in its entirety and then held the notepad out to Mark. He lifted his eyes from the baby once more and focused on the words in front of him.

 

_William Mark Jones-Darcy_

 

"Well?" She asked, her heartbeat speeding up at the sight of the look on his face. He liked, very much.

Swallowing, Mark nodded. "I’m honoured, Bridget, and I love it," he finally answered, his voice breaking.

“Good. Now, I believe you were about to give me an awfully romantic speech right before my water broke. I’d like to hear it now,” she said, watching as a faint blush rose over Mark’s face.

Sighing, he moved the chair closer to the bed and reached for her hand with his free one.

“I already told you most of it when you were in labour, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt repeating it.”

“I suppose it couldn’t.”

“I love you, both of you. My job or anything else is not nearly as important as you, and although I will have to get a new phone soon, I promise that it won’t come between us again. If I start to slip, feel free to destroy my phone using a method of your choosing.”

She had to chuckle at that. Some people might tell her that she was a fool to believe his promises, but the truth was that she had loved this man for 16 years, and at this point the most logical conclusion was that she would never stop. Nobody had even come close, and never would. Maybe she could have loved Jack, but she would love Mark Darcy until the day she died, and probably even after. 

“I never stopped loving you. We’ll get it right this time, Mark. Us breaking up back then wasn’t just your fault, it was my responsibility too. We’ll work on this together,” she said, hoping Mark would eventually stop taking all the blame for their former failure as a couple.

“There’s more at stake now, William deserves to live in a happy home,” he replied quietly, turning away from her to look at their now sleeping boy.

“He does, and we’ll give him that. I’ll be a total mess as a mother, but you’ll come to my rescue. And I’ll tell you when you’re being an emotionally repressed arse.” Their life together would still have its challenges and disagreements, but they would work things out. For themselves, and for William.

Mark chuckled. “I know you will. You’d manage fine on your own too though, you don’t need me to raise a child.”

“Maybe I would manage, but I want you with us.”

“And thank God for that,” he replied, at last leaning down to kiss her.

Getting close was mildly challenging, as they both tried to avoid squishing William between them. It worked out quite nicely when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself off the bed slightly, while his free arm snaked around her back. She smiled against his mouth as she realised that from now on she could kiss him again whenever she liked, and finally allowed herself to admit how much she’d missed him being this close to her.

“Nice boys still don’t kiss like that, you know,” she teased when they finally pulled apart.

He flashed her that obnoxious but grin that had always made her legs turn into jelly. “I think you should know differently by now.”

“And I think I need to gather some more data on the matter.” He chuckled and pulled her back to him.

Nice boys on the whole most definitely did not kiss like that, but Mark Darcy did. And that was more than enough for her.


End file.
